He tilted his head, his brows knitted together. “I don’t want you to be something you’re not. I just said that.”
I almost smiled. “No, what I mean is, I don’t actually need to do anything for a job. I have—” I swallowed hard, not overly comfortable telling anyone this. “—money.”
He blinked.
“When I said my Aunt Marvie left me a chunk of money, I wasn’t kidding. I just don’t tell many people. It’s invested and in term deposits so I don’t have a huge cash flow, but I live off the interest, basically. And I live here because I love it. Sure it’s small and whatever, but it’s close to Emilio and Lola, and I don’t need material things to make me happy. But I don’t do what I do for the money. I do it because I like helping people.”
Andrew stared at me, then he laughed. “You are an interesting man, Spencer.”
“You don’t care?”
“Why would I care? I said it doesn’t bother me what you do for a job.”
I was talking about the money, but he didn’t even seem to care about that either. I stood up from the table and walked over to him. I put my hand to his face and kissed him softly. “You’re kind of great, you know that?”
He smiled all shyly. “Did you say you got gelato?”
I let out a laugh and put my hand on his flat stomach. “Where do you put it all?”
“Yeah, don’t worry. At this rate I’ll be at the gym at 4:00 a.m.”
So, with the tub of gelato and two spoons, we planted our arses in front of the TV and watched re-runs of Family Feud until almost midnight, laughing and arguing about who was winning and taking the piss out of each other’s answers.
He texted me when he got home. Had the best night, thank you.
Me too, I replied.
My place, Thursday night?
Will you cook?
If I have to. Oh, sorry, damn autocorrect. That was supposed to be If you help me.
LOL. Deal.
Talk tomorrow?
Of course.
Night, Spencer. Sweet dreams.
I was still smiling when Lola picked me up the next morning.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I climbed into Cindy Crawford, Lola’s 80s model car, and Lola swerved back into traffic before I could even put our drinks into the cup-holder and put my seat belt on. We’d gone a block when I handed her her coffee. She eyed me instead of the road. “Look at you all smug smiles. I take it things with Andrew are going great?”
“Can you watch the traffic? I don’t feel like dying today.”
She smiled, sipped her coffee, changed gears, and changed lanes one handed, and all while looking at me. I didn’t really need the green tea when I had a morning heart-starter like a trip in the car with Lola at the wheel.
“So?” she pressed. “I take it you and Andrew…?”
“We still haven’t had sex,” I told her.
She swerved, a car honked its horn, and she straightened up. “What do you mean? You’re definitely getting something. I can tell.”
I laughed. “Well, true. We’re… fooling around, doing some stuff, but no penetrative sex. Yet.”
“Can I ask why? I mean, statistically gay men have the most sex out of everyone, so you’re singlehandedly ruining the bell curve, honey. It’s going to look more like a Smurf hat than a bell, Spence. Do you want that on your conscience?”
I almost spat my tea. “Just because it’s not actual fucking, doesn’t mean it’s not sex. We’re doing our part to prop up the bell curve, believe me. We’re taking things slower so we don’t fizzle and burn out, that’s all.” Then I noticed the cars in front of us were stopped, but Lola was still looking at me. I put my free hand on the dash. “Ah, Lola?”
She hit the brakes, and without missing a beat, she said, “Aww, that’s so sweet.”
I took a calming breath. “Remind me next time to have my tea with a Xanax to go.”
“I thought you were going to tell me he was saving himself.”
“Ah, no. He’s finding it harder to abstain than me, I think.”
“I ain’t surprised. Look at you. Looking all dapper today.”
I was wearing my navy blue three-quarter pants, a white T-shirt, and Andrew’s Argyle vest that he left at my place. “Andrew told his mother I would be on the cover of Aussies Living Sexy in LA.”
She grinned, her eyes wide. “He does the fake magazine cover thing too?”
“Yep.”
“Awww, see? You’re a match made in heaven!”
I laughed. “You like his vest on me? He left it at my place last night.”
“It suits you,” she said, again looking at me and not the road.
“Um, car. Car!”
Lola slowed down so we didn’t rear end the car in front of us, thankfully. “So, you’re going to an acting school in search of a guy you can’t find?”
“Yeah. I have no clue what this one’s about. If I can’t find a trace of him after today, I’ll just tell Lance it was a no-go.”
“Oh, did a Peter Hannikov call you?”
“Yes, he left a message. You know him?”